When I lack anything of substance to write about I oftentimes go to Rotary Park in Lake Havasu City for a mental awakening. Guaranteed, I’ll come away with something to use my expensive LaserJet ink on, perhaps after being down there for only an hour or less.
Rotary Park is my go-to place for enjoying a hot breakfast sandwich or salsa soaked tacos in the car, occasionally parking my derriere at one of many picnic tables. I’m not the only one thinking this desert oasis is paradise, because I often see the same vehicles and faces.
Having done this for several years, oftentimes I have to read between the lines on stuff I’ve observed. This can sometimes leave me rather glum, and is the type of visual observation that isn’t fun to share, such as this one.
For a couple of years, an older man and his wife would be there in the
morning, having their coffee and most likely Egg McMuffins. I’d see their truck
in McDonald’s drive-thru several times a week, and on occasion—we were either in front of or behind it. The couple’s little Pug dog was generally always staring out a driver or passenger side window, looking as cute as Pugs can be. They were locals because I’m talking summer and winter.
For several months the vehicle disappeared, and then one morning it was
back, with just the male driver and his dog—no female passenger. I suspect this missing person to be his wife or girlfriend. One can only assume the worst here although I pray not.
These days, I no longer see this fellow and his four-legged pal. Hopefully, things are okay, but as a “spectator” and not knowing the answer to that question, anyone’s guess is as good as mine. I’m sure the ever friendly Rotary Park hosts notice stuff like this, including those hardworking volunteers and city employees always down there.
Not all is sad along those same lines as a missing couple and their dog. Just this past week, my wife and I were parked in our usual spot enjoying some pulled pork sandwiches for lunch. I’d backed our vehicle in next to the golf course fence, and four visitors were getting ready to enjoy the lake just across from us. One of the men had a large inflatable boat, designed to merely sit in at lake edge and not venture out into deep water.
He had a unique way to inflate things, using a leaf blower with an attachment
and hose. While two of his party walked on down to the lake to check things out, this gentleman stayed behind along with wife or girlfriend to inflate the raft. From the start he had trouble keeping air going in where it should, and before all air cavities were filled, his leaf blower suddenly stopped, having ran out of gas.
I could feel the man’s pain, incurring dilemmas like this all the time. Having no extra fuel, the leaf blower used a mixture of oil and gasoline, all the guy could do at this point was pull numerous rubber plugs back out of the round boat, and lie on top of it, exhausting what air there was still inside.
When the other two people eventually came to check on his progress, I could see dejection on their faces as the distressed man told them his story. Hopefully, the foursome still had fun without their toy, although we left at this point, with my wife not wanting us looking like gawkers at an accident scene.
Not all such incidents have been this hard to watch. A trio of young guys, evidently three sheets to the wind, were attempting to assemble one of those pop-up tents while the Havasu winds were blowing quite strong.
They’d get it almost up when a gust would take it down. This went on for at
least thirty minutes. Finally, a strong enough blast came along turning the
aluminum legs on this thing into pretzels. In what appeared to be a fit of rage, one of the guys balled up crumpled remnants and carried them to a nearby dumpster.
Joleen and I weren’t the only ones watching this free show, because all eyes in the parking lot were fixated on this act. Since that time, I’ve seen it repeated a good half dozen times, yet never on the same hilarious level as those three dudes.
This morning, a young man and woman attempted to carry a heavy paddleboat across a lengthy section of parking lot and place it in the water. I couldn’t understand why the driver hadn’t pulled their little car and trailer next to the lake, instead of near the golf course where we sat. A fellow coming over to help most likely thought the same thing, because I could read his lips. Still having ruptured, bulging, and ulcerated discs in my back from performing similar crazy acts over many years, sometimes it takes a little pain to learn the right way to do things. I eventually did, as I’m sure this younger person will in due time.
Perhaps the funniest thing we’ve witnessed at Rotary Park was several years ago. An older woman was feeding birds French fries out the window of her car. Some smaller brown birds were brave. They’d fly up and light on her hand, quickly snatch a fry, and then zip away.
Pigeons on the ground were evidently a bit incensed at not receiving any food, because they were walking around in circles talking to one another. A seagull soaring overhead had evidently seen enough and decided to crash the party.
Holding out another morsel of food, the dirty brown seagull suddenly swooped down, flying inside the car while the lady instantaneously flew out. Within seconds, this gull exited the now open door carrying a red and yellow French fries carton in its beak, undoubtedly now empty. I’m sure he left a mess behind with this lady doing the same.
There’s no telling what I’ll see on tomorrow’s trip. I can only hope that man and his dog return, with this being the type of story I’d love to write about next week!
I like to write junk... 